


Winter's Gift

by BothWonderful_AndStrange



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Fade to Black, Fluff, Little One is a term of endearment, M/M, No Smut, Thorin Oakenshield Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-07 03:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BothWonderful_AndStrange/pseuds/BothWonderful_AndStrange
Summary: (also on Tumblr)Thorin lives and visits Bilbo in the Shire with a gift for the Winter.





	Winter's Gift

The winter after Bilbo returned to the Shire was the coldest he had ever seen. It began with the wind, unceasing, it whipped and howled through the woods and the fields. With it came the hail, lashing sharply at windows and the rain fell so fat and heavy it turned the land into mire.  
When the snow came the change was pleasant. The world seemed peaceful and quiet, and though outside the cold was unbearable, inside was warm and the view of a snow-covered Shire made staying inside worth it.  
Even as the thick blanket grew, with well-stocked larders and well-stoked fires, Winter in the Shire was possibly one of the most comfortable times one could experience.

One of these winter nights found Bilbo's windows covered, his home practically invisible under the fresh snow. Inside was warm, as it should be, tinted gold in candle and firelight. Spiced pumpkin soup simmered over the fire, it's delicious warm smell drifted through the Hobbit-Hole. Matched with the heady, sweet smell of Farmer Maggot's famed mulled wine, gently warming in a pan beside the soup.  
Bilbo, comfortable and warm after supper, poured himself another cup of wine and with a contented sigh, sat in his most comfortable armchair to enjoy it.  
The wind howled outside and he shivered in response, taking another warming sip.

_Glad I'm not out in that._ He thought. _To open my door for just one second_ _is a horrid thought on it's own._

No sooner had his thought passed and bought the cup to his lips, a heavy knock echoed through the hall.  
He frowned and listened, hoping that he had imagined the sound, but another, harder knock followed soon after. He got to his feet, pulled his dressing gown tighter around himself, and took quick steps to the door and took a breath to steel himself against the cold that would assault him.

A heap of snow-covered furs seemed to step into his hall, were it not for the pair of sharp-blue eyes, Bilbo would not have begun to recognise Thorin Oakenshield himself and the Hobbit was left dumb.

“Despite the weather,” Thorin spoke, pulling loose his various furs and wools, grinning at the Hobbit's expression. “I did not lose my way this time.”

Bilbo, still stunned, took each coat, scarf, mitt, cowl, hood and glove from the dwarf and had to shake himself into focus before he could speak.

“Thorin…. What-?”

Thorin trailed indoors, looking fondly at the Hobbit hole (almost a complete different expression than his first visit, Bilbo would later recall).

“I don't suppose you have anything to fend off the chill?”

Bilbo almost leapt into action, quickly hanging the various clothes and rushing past Thorin into the sitting-room. “Of course! Please, come and sit!”

He offered his best armchair, of course, and as Thorin sat, he arranged a tray with a bowl of soup, a decent chunk of wheat bread, and as an afterthought, added a small bowl of butter.

“This is all I have that is warm,” he says apologetically. “I can make you something else if you like.”

Thorin chuckled (and Bilbo blamed the wine for the warmth in his face). “This will do, thank you.”

For a moment, Thorin ate, letting out happy sounds, his eyelids dropping in appreciation as the warmth of the soup filled him. Bilbo sat perched on the edge of the other chair, cradling his own cup in both hands.

“Thorin…” The Dwarf-King turned his softened eyes to him. “Not that I don't appreciate the visit. I – I'm always glad to see you.”  
“Hmm?”  
“But what are you _doing_ here? In this weather?!”

Thorin smirked, and stayed silent as he broke off a chunk of bread and dipped it into his soup, and Bilbo waited for an answer.

“I was worried, master Hobbit.”  
“Worried?” Bilbo echoes, voice turning a little reedy.  
Thorin nods.  
“I feel a little thirsty...”  
“Oh! Of course!”

Bilbo jumps up to the fireplace and pours Thorin a full cup of the warm wine, meeting the Dwarf-King's eyes as he hands it over.

“I heard of terrible luck befalling others in these parts.” Thorin explains, he takes a drink, and continues. “I wanted to make sure you were well.”

Bilbo was sure he could not blame his blush on the wine now.

“You needn't have travelled -”

Thorin held up his hand to silence the Hobbit, he moved his tray to the table beside the chair and fixes Bilbo with a serious eye.

“I _needed_ to make sure you were well and that you would remain so if the weather worsens.”

He stands and crosses back through the hall to his large pack, it was wrapped in hide to protect it from the weather, Bilbo hovered behind Thorin, watching as the dwarf untied each bind.  
The hide fell away and Thorin stood, unrolling as he did a huge black and grey wolf fur throw in his hands.

“I bring you a winters' gift.”

Bilbo was stunned into silence once again, he shuffled closer and rested his hands in the fur, fingertips half-disappearing in it's thickness.  
Thorin lays the pelt in Bilbo's arms, it was heavy and already beginning to warm from the heat of his home. The Hobbit was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Wu-well, thank you, Thorin… I don't know what to say.”

Thorin places a heavy hand on Bilbo's shoulder, gently squeezing as his gaze softens with a smile.

“Say you'll stay safe, Little One.”

Bilbo could definitely not blame the wine for the blush that burned over his cheeks and turned the tips of his ears red. It only grew as he looked up at the Dwarf King to see the soft smile.

“O-of course… unless you need me, th-that is.”

Thorin's eyes widened a little and the Hobbit realised what he'd said, flustering to correct himself. Thorin chuckled softly and bent to press a soft kiss to Bilbo's cheek, silencing the Hobbit abruptly as his hand gently slid to the back of his neck, fingers curling in the hair there.

“Thorin...” He whispers before the dwarf king covers his mouth with another kiss, rough lips pressing and gently sucking on his own.

“I do need you, Bilbo.” Thorin said once their lips parted, then continued the kiss until Bilbo was breathless and his eyes were foggy with desire.  
“Thorin, would you stay with me tonight?” Bilbo asked, ignoring the ache in his arms from the weight of the throw.  
“I would stay forever if you asked.” Thorin said with a smile, bending to scoop Bilbo into his arms and carry him to his bed where he lay the blushing Hobbit down and kissed him breathless again.


End file.
